


Something Wicked

by Pondermoniums



Series: Expecto Draconis [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Biting, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Canon Universe Freeform, Childhood Trauma, Erotica, Fluff and Smut, Halloween Special, Kinky Credence, Licking, M/M, Masturbation, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Scratching, Shame, domestic abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-16 04:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12335658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pondermoniums/pseuds/Pondermoniums
Summary: There is a vampire in New York, and it's just Credence's luck that it finds him.[A Halloween, vampire!au one-shot which is completely separate from the main story.]





	Something Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> Just pretend like I uploaded this on Halloween, m'kay? 'Kay.
> 
> This is a fun smutty vampirey ficlet for anyone, but especially the readers of my [Expecto Draconis fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10639245/chapters/23538756) which is such a slow burn but so many have been wonderfully loyal to it <3 Here's a little something wicked for you ;) Even though it somehow became the most wholesome vampire story I'll ever write.
> 
> Happy October and stay safe my lovelies!!

Credence’s shoulders rose a little higher toward his ears as the cold prickled up his spine. It was not irregular in the winter of New York but the empty avenue was. He felt exposed like a nerve; despite his constant interest in being out of the orphanage, Credence despised being alone.

The raw paper of the pamphlets scratched against his hands. Did he dare throw them away? There was no way she would believe he had successfully distributed them, and she would still punish him for not doing so. Perhaps not immediately, but eventually.

A dog barked somewhere, startling him. Just as quickly as it yelled it fell silent. Credence looked around him but steam from the sewers rose around him, enveloping him in pale tickling particles. They might have been welcome in this cold but the smell was more akin to stale water and rotten eggs. Turning around, he picked up his pace once more—

He walked into a soft form, equally shrouded in the steam. “Umph, s-sorry,” he apologized, trying to go around the person. Warm moisture dusted over his eyelids, somehow heavy over his eyes. Maybe he was just tired; he had been out late yesterday too. Sometimes if he came back late enough she was already asleep.

“Scuse me,” he tried again, but for some reason he and the person could not maneuver around one another. It took far too long for Credence to figure out that it was because hands were on his arms. His eyelids were so heavy…

“I am so sorry,” was the last thing his ears comprehended.

*******

Credence awoke with a start, as if he had forgotten a great deal he was supposed to do. Seeing the familiar paneled walls, attic ceiling, and patched quilt around him, he relaxed and settled on his pillow once more, but as he rubbed sleep from his face a knock on the door sounded and he looked at his sister peaking in to warn quietly, “Credence, you’re gonna miss breakfast.”

“Okay,” he said, but did not immediately rise. Modesty was too young to know why sometimes he needed a little extra time to get out of bed in the mornings, but she closed the door as he rubbed his eyes. Rolling onto his side, he paused at the sight of the pamphlets on his small bedside dresser. He frowned perplexedly. He could not remember coming in last night.

But he quickly had a greater dilemma to deal with which would certainly not allow him downstairs. To be honest, Credence did not like this part. Even though it technically felt good, mentally it terrified him. He had successfully kept his mother from discovering that he touched himself on occasion but her treatment of the others who were not so tactful was terrifying enough. Even in the privacy of his room he felt exposed: the door had no lock, and in its place was a hole in the door for anyone to peer inside. Credence had to roll so his back was to the door and the covers were over his shoulders so no discernible movement could be seen in his arms.

The moment he pushed his hands into his underwear, the very friction of the fabric against his swollen head made him tremble. It was strong today. Hopefully that meant he would come faster.

He reached deeper and found his base while the other hand gently kneaded his undercarriage. His fingers slid up to caress the sensitive head, but found it already slick and gooey. Credence winced against the throbbing ache of his heartbeat in his neck and between his brows. The headache would pass once he ate but he needed this to go away first.

The sensations spiked, the orgasm strong and sudden, catching him off guard. He felt it in his very toes, the currents in his feet constricting so the blood rushed to his groin. He was momentarily frightened with how much came out. His heart rattled in his ribcage as he lay there dazed, collecting himself and reassuring that he was the one who washed everyone’s sheets. It would certainly be laundry day today.

But when he stood from the bed, his head swam. His neck felt weak and his cranium too heavy as he went toward the small mirror mounted on the door of his slim armoire in the corner… Credence looked at himself but could not discern anything particularly out of the ordinary. He was perhaps a little pale and had slept in his collared shirt—

He folded the rumpled corners down and gaped at his neck. Two distinct _holes_ were there, along with less precise red marks on either side of them which did not puncture the skin. The holes were on the front of his throat though off-centered, following the muscle and artery down to his clavicle. Credence quickly righted the collar and tried buttoning it. The process was painful and he realized he would never be able to get dried blood out of it.

Rummaging in his bedside dresser, he found a handkerchief which he quickly folded and put over the holes so his collar would button over them. He exhaled with some relief. His raiment would cover it.

He reached for his trousers but paused. The belt was still in the loops as if he had simply unbuckled and stepped out of them. He never undressed like that. The belt always went inside his armoire, out of sight for as long as possible.

He swallowed thickly, feeling the gulp entirely in his throat as he finished dressing, made the bed, and shut the door behind him.

*******

Tina was just shy of livid, mostly because her anger revealed itself in the form of worry.

“You wiped his memory, right?” she had asked hopefully, but Newt was taking longer and longer to answer. Her features frowned lower as his lips parted and he ducked his head before shyly looking back up.

“Um.”

Her eyes widened. “You didn’t obliviate him?”

“Well—”

“NEWT!”

“It’s all right, there is nothing to worry—”

“This is more than a Section 3A! This breaks the National Statute of Secrecy, conflicts with the Non-Wizard Part-Human Guidelines—”

“Excuse me, but I am a wizard and perfectly human,” Newt conflicted. “At least I was born as such. My magic is still my own.”

Tina stabbed him with an ill-humored glare. “Yeah. I caught that when you apparated with Mr. Kowalski at the bank. An unregistered wizard _and_ an unregistered vampire—this is balled up!”

“I don’t see why you’re concerned about this,” Newt voiced. “Your involvement has been entirely voluntary.”

“Wait, wait,” the muggle in question halted. Jacob sat at the table with Newt while Tina paced the apartment and Queenie finished making breakfast. “What d’ya mean you were born human…but you’re not anymore?”

“Newt’s a vampire, honey,” Queenie chimed. “I guess the bites are like werewolves’, huh?”

“Werewolf bites are poisonous and transformative,” Newt corrected. “Vampire bites are more complicated, but safe.”

Tina chuffed at the word while Jacob baulked, “Witches, wizards…now vampires and werewolves too?”

“It’s not a joke,” Tina intercepted, “at least not a funny one.”

Jacob shook his head understandingly. “Oh I don’t got the brains to be this creative. And after what I saw in the bank, I believe ya, but aren’t vampires supposed to be pale and look like death? You got freckles.”

“This is a recent development in my life,” Newt admitted. “Vampires can still go out in daylight, though it is sensitive on the eyes. I suspect my magic as well as my being primarily human has given me some advantage. All that has changed is my diet, certain abilities, and imperviousness to mortal illnesses.”

“So you…” Jacob cleared his throat, “ah-heh, drink blood. Right? That’s why the two a’you crashed into my apartment?”

“No, actually,” Tina huffed, “Because _Mr. Scamander_ has a case full of magical creatures you almost opened. I don’t know why I expected you to obliviate the victim when you didn’t obliviate Mr. Kowalski.”

“Call me Jacob, please. I think we’re passed those sorta formalities,” he offered.

“Again, why are you—” Newt began.

“Because I’m an auror!” she exclaimed before her sister refuted, “You got fired.”

Newt intercepted, “I didn’t need to obliviate him. Vampires come with their own…memory alterations, which I’m afraid I have not mastered.”

Tina huffed a sardonic laugh. “You’re tellin’ me. Now we gotta find the no-maj and wipe his memory before he overreacts about the holes in his neck.”

“I’m doin’ great, thanks,” Jacob interrupted with a gentle wave of his wrist. “Little light-headed, but if I’m anythin’ to go by, the kid will panic before he understands. Though it’s not every day you get bitten in a bank.”

Newt bashfully met Tina’s glare again. “Don’t scold me. It’s because I bit him that we were able to find him in time.”

Tina silently fumed. Jacob perked up as Newt reached into his case for certain items, among them a squat jar and a brush to apply a balm on Jacob’s wrist. Jacob marveled at the sight of his skin cinching back together as he asked, “You can, what? Track those you’ve bitten?”

"Yes, that's right."

Tina exploded, “Shouldn’t you be more concerned that you were bitten in the first place?”

“He said the bite was safe. It’s safe, right?” he cornered Newt.

Newt looked up at him with wide eyes and simply blinked. “Yes.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed on him. “What’s the catch here?”

“There are side effects,” Newt acquiesced and quickly added as he felt Tina’s worry spike, “They are perfectly manageable, though. Take this, it will nullify yours.”

Jacob looked dubiously at the pill Newt set on the table next to his water but he wasn’t in much of a place to question it. Almost immediately, Jacob’s headache and sense of dehydration ebbed. “I’m not gonna start cravin’ rare steaks, am I?”

Queenie smiled as she set down his omelet and a platter of spicy potatoes, peppers, and onions. Newt put things back in his case as he explained, “Difficult to say. See you are a muggle, so our physiologies are subtly different. This is made more complicated given the lack of knowledge of vampires and the unpredictability of the symptoms.”

“What’s unpredictable about ‘em?” Queenie wondered.

“Well vampires are not dead things,” Newt provided, “despite Mr. Stoker’s romantic volume about them. They are a different species, with a corresponding diet. They can be born and reproduce, but the entanglement of physiologies, or myself being turned into one, blurs the specificities. For instance…”

He plucked a cube of potato from the platter and ate it, but his expression was lackluster. “I can still eat food but my taste buds for it are significantly dulled. Which is a shame because it smells divine.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Queenie bloomed from her seat beside Jacob.

“What are the symptoms for wizards, then?” Tina finally sat at the table.

Newt’s cheeks puffed out as he exhaled. “In short…the body is overrun with sensation. Things are felt more strongly: a craving for something one might not usually eat, and the grit beneath one’s shoes. The blood thins, making them vulnerable to another attack, but I’ve also seen other effects, as if the venom in my fangs alters the person for them to continue being my donor.”

“You have venom,” Tina baulked.

“How d’ya know that?” Jacob wondered.

“The antidote I gave you,” he said, “was made from my venom, but it is specific to me. I doubt it would work for victims of other vampires.”

Tina turned toward him. “Newt, you _cannot_ bite him again.”

“I was weary from days of travel,” he defended. “Apparating put myself too close to him, but I won’t bite Jacob again.”

“Thanks,” the man declared with a mixture of sincerity and doubt.

“I mean the other one,” Tina stated. “Do you even know who you bit? It coulda been a police officer, or worse, somebody from MACUSA.”

“They have magic but I doubt they work for MACUSA,” Newt said quietly.

Queenie perked up. “You can taste that?”

Newt smiled shyly but asked, “Please don’t read my mind.”

“Sorry. That’s fascinating.”

“Do I wanna know what magic tastes like?” Jacob laughed anxiously.

Newt shrugged. “Like water on a summer’s day. It’s not any worse than tea or coffee, but it quenches the thirst in a way the others don’t manage as well.”

“Huh,” Jacob uttered with wistful surprise. “I didn’ expect it to be put that way.”

Newt changed the subject, “By any chance, would you know what sort of places those Second Salemers frequent?” Tina and Queenie exchanged glances. “As a wizard, I ought to know where the witch hunters are,” he elaborated.

Tina was decidedly silent whereas Queenie remarked, “They like to make their speeches in front of places people gotta go. The bank, corners of major streets, those sorta places. Teenie follows ‘em.”

“I don’t!” she piped but both Newt and Jacob looked at her. She sighed, “I’m not supposed to go near them. I lost my job because I attacked their leader. That woman speaking on the bank’s stairs.”

“Did she deserve it?” Jacob asked.

Queenie laughed. “I like him, Teenie. We don’t gotta obliviate him, do we? I never met a no-maj like him.”

Jacob smiled warmly while Tina exhaled raggedly. “Yeah, she deserved it but it still caused a huge scandal that lost me my job. MACUSA doesn’ like dealin’ with no-majs, and all the Salemers had to be obliviated, including the kids. She runs the Barebone Orphanage. After the money she gets from the government feeds the kids, she uses the rest for the Salemers.”

“Do they actually hunt witches?” Jacob asked. “That’s pretty seventeenth century of them.”

“They’d never actually catch a witch or wizard,” Tina waved aside. “She beats ‘em. The kids. The Salemers are just a small group of people; MACUSA could easily wipe their memories of all things magic if they weren’t bothered with the search for Gellert Grindelwald. I saw her hit the eldest…a young man named Credence…so I followed ‘em home. She was beating him right in the middle of her meeting that I interrupted.”

“Jeez,” he hissed.

“I don’t know why she hates him so much,” Tina shook her head weakly. “She beats all those kids but he gets the worst of it.”

Newt absorbed this and stood from the table, buttoning his blue coat. “I’m going out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Tina shot to her feet.

“Someone ought to escort Jacob home,” Newt replied.

“Are you gonna obliviate him? Because Newt—”

“Yes, you made that point perfectly clear across the length of New York,” he retorted. “And to be honest, I am not interested in going to prison for the sake of your job.”

“He’s gotta point, Teenie,” Queenie purred. “And he’s nice. We don’t got a lot of friends here. Most a’the wizards we know are from work. You’re refreshing. Let ‘em go, he’ll come back.”

Tina reluctantly placed her hands on her hips while her sister winked behind her back. Both gentlemen were silent and slid out of the room before Tina thought otherwise. Once the door closed, Newt grasped Jacob’s arm to apparate them outside to avoid disturbing the landlady.

“What’s the ‘bliviating’ thing you all keep talkin’ about?” Jacob asked as they walked along the pavement.

“It’s like you wake up with all memory of magic gone,” Newt provided offhandedly as he craned his neck to look up at the buildings. He squinted against the painful light.

“Oh…” Jacob’s features fell. “Is that what you’re gonna do?”

Newt did a double take at him as if he had already left this conversation. “No. I’m not. I need your help.”

Jacob brightened. “Really? What can I do?”

“You know New York better than I do, and it is remarkably easier to feed monogamously.”

“Wait. You want me t’help ya find the kid? So you can bite him again?” Jacob frowned.

“Yes,” Newt said bluntly. “Does that bother you?”

“Uh,” he gave it some thought. “Yeah. Kinda. Morally speakin’.”

“I’ve no intention of hurting him,” Newt assured. “On the contrary, I drink very little, but I need to feed consistently to avoid accidents like ours in the bank.”

“Shouldn’t ya ask him?” Jacob wondered.

Newt looked at him as if this had genuinely never occurred to him. “A young man living with witch hunters giving permission to a vampire…I suppose I could.”

“Maybe we find him first and…assess the situation,” Jacob corrected.

“All right,” Newt agreed as he switched the hands holding his case, blinking against the dull sunlight.

*******

Credence was glad for the overcast day but without the sunlight, his nape was cold and exposed. He had given his only scarf to Modesty a long time ago but his flat-brimmed hat did nothing to keep his head warm.

Modesty ran out of pamphlets first, which was usually the case. People more willingly acknowledged her and ignored him. Not that he minded, but somehow he was always given more papers to hand out, doomed to fail.

Across the street, Jacob and Newt watched the Second Salemers giving the same spiel from the day before. Jacob’s hands wiggled in his pockets as Newt was digging into one of his. “So, what’s the plan here?”

He looked at Newt, who seemed to be pulling a mile-long scarf out of his coat pocket. “If you’re trying to keep this whole magic thing a secret, maybe don’t enlarge your pockets?”

Ignoring him, Newt swung the scarf around his arm, gathering it to hand to Jacob. “You need to give this to him.”

“What? Why?” Jacob reluctantly took the striped gold and grey fabric. It was soft and dense in his hands; it felt like it was worth his entire apartment.

“The body is weaker without blood and unable to produce heat as easily. He is cold,” Newt looked at him like it was obvious.

“Everyone’s cold. It’s December,” Jacob retorted. “Why can’t you give it to ‘im?”

“I best not approach him in a such a visible crowd,” Newt said, observing the populace across the street. “I’m not sure how well my memory alterations worked.”

“Huh…” Jacob sighed with a nod. “Would be a problem if he took off running if he saw you.”

“Yes,” Newt confirmed bluntly. He and Jacob looked at each other. “Go on,” he pushed. “I’ll make a distraction.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to relieve the bank of its noise,” Newt said as he rummaged in an inner pocket. “Or rather, cause some more.”

“Uh, alright,” Jacob voiced and he looked at the state of traffic on the street. He peeked back at Newt, who was likewise crossing the street but a ways down. Jacob joined the crowd listening to Mary Lou Barebone yell about the city’s need to defend against some sort of evil. As far as Jacob knew, the only evil was Queenie’s pastries being better than his—

_SHWRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!_

A shrill whistle cut through the noise of the city. The unfazed New Yorkers merely looked around curiously before a tail of sparks scattered them. Whipping back and forth, the green firework swirled and tangled over the stairs before the sparks bloomed and they were engulfed in orange. Jacob watched Credence, who collapsed on the stairs, covering his and Modesty’s faces. Mary Lou called everyone together, which Modesty answered, but Credence remained where he was.

Jacob shielded his eyes as he maneuvered toward him. Credence flinched when Jacob touched his arm. “Somebody’s over excited for New Years. We gotta get outta here.”

Credence let himself be pulled to his feet and used his hat to shield himself as Jacob led them through the chaos of lights and sound. They pushed through the crowd that had gathered on the edge of the commotion and vanished among the populace.

“Here, it’s colder today,” Jacob said, offering the scarf to Credence, but he did not immediately take it. “Oh, Jacob Kowalski,” he said, switching the scarf with his hand. “Probably shoulda done this first.”

Credence looked at his hand but his own closed and fidgeted on the front of his jacket. “Credence…” he murmured.

Jacob watched him and glanced around and behind them, but Newt was nowhere in sight. “Look, uh, this actually doesn’ belong to me. But its owner wants you to wear it.”

Credence looked more unnerved than ever. “Whose is it?”

“That depends,” Jacob laughed apprehensively. “Do you know a guy… ‘bout this high. Curly-ish hair. Long blue coat. Carries a case everywhere. English guy. Got a lot a’freckles.”

Credence’s brows twitched in a frown as he shook his head. “I don’t know anybody from England.”

Jacob laughed more easily. “Well that’s about to change.”

“Why?” Credence blurted. “What does he want with me?”

“Right now, he just wants ya to be warm,” Jacob handed him the scarf again. “And if you don’t take it, I will because this thing feels like it was made by magic Kashmir or somethin’.”

Something lit up in Credence’s awareness but Jacob did not think it was the Kashmir part. Slowly, he accepted the garment and rubbed the golden stripes between his fingers. It had the floating fuzz of a well-loved wool garment but this only seemed to make it softer and promised warmth—

“Is it not to your liking?” a concerned voice startled behind them.

Both Credence and Jacob jumped. “Jeez!” Jacob exclaimed, whereas Credence clutched the scarf to his chest, doubling over as if to hide. “I thought you was waiting _over there_ or somethin’,” Jacob accused.

Newt met Jacob’s accusatory gaze but innocently looked back to Credence. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Credence, hearing his accent looked between him and Jacob. “Who are you? We don’t know each other.”

“Ah,” Newt sighed with a shy smile. “Newt Scamander. I forget we haven’t met.”

Credence stared at him whereas Jacob’s eyes widened pointedly. Newt continued, “The bank stairs are privy to the wind. Not a day to forget one’s scarf at home.”

Jacob scrubbed a hand over his face. Credence did not notice as he avoided Newt’s gaze. “I…gave mine to my sister.”

“And so I gave you mine,” Newt nodded. “Use it as long as you like.”

Credence looked down longingly at the fabric but he shook his head. “I can’t take it. My…my ma wouldn’t want me to have it.”

Jacob’s features softened somewhat as he watched Credence. He had thought Credence would be younger, but this was a young man in front of them, one who was genuinely terrified of incurring this woman’s wrath.

“Then we won’t tell her, huh?” he offered. Credence and Newt looked at him, the former puzzled and the latter’s eyes softly curious. “You go out at night, right?” he glanced at Newt but continued, “He can meet you so you can give it back. Or what’re ya doin’ today? You got anywhere to be?”

Credence looked forlornly down at the leaflets in his hands. “I can’t go home with these.”

Without a word, Newt took the papers and waved them like he was shaking a spider from the pile…but the dry flapping silenced right as he seemed to put them in his pocket. Credence’s eyes widened as his lips parted, sure that…nothing had gone into his pocket at all. He looked up into Newt’s eyes, and faced a mischievous smile, but not an unkind one.

“I…” he blinked dumbly. “I…usually meet—no…I have time.”

“Who do you need to see?” Newt asked, closer than ever. Credence stared at those eyelashes kissing his cheeks as he blinked.

“He…doesn’t want me to talk about him…” Credence said weakly, but every word fell lower and lower until only Newt’s preternatural ears could pick them up.

“That doesn’t sound like a kind person,” Newt voiced gently.

“You don’t know him,” Credence defended suddenly and just as quickly looked away. “He…he treats me different.”

Newt nodded slowly, absorbing this. “Would…” his weight shifted on his feet as his brows furrowed in concentration. “Would you let me try?”

Credence looked up with a skeptical expression. But behind it was hope. “You don’t know me.”

Newt’s eyes smiled. “I disagree. Are you hungry?”

After a moment, honesty got the best of him and Credence shyly nodded. Newt looked to Jacob. “What do you recommend?”

Jacob brushed a finger under his nose. “Oh, I got the place for ya. It’s kind of a walk, though.”

Newt’s gaze returned to Credence. “The scarf is needed then.”

At an impasse, Credence finally looped the fabric around his neck and pulled the ends through. His lashes blinked heavily, relishing the softness around his neck all the way up to his ears.

All three of them glanced down at the sound of a buckle flicking open on Newt’s case. He shut it quickly and nodded to Jacob. “After you.”

*******

Queenie lazily moved her wand in the air, her gaze far away as the spoon in the stew pot followed her motions. She giggled to herself, pressing her fingertips to her lips. Tina looked up from her book on the table. “What’re you laughing about? Ms. Estitito’s liasons again?”

“No,” Queenie purred. “We have company.”

The door opened and Tina reacted in the way of several things trying to happen at once but none of them succeeded so she merely fell out of her chair.

“Here we go,” Jacob announced. “Best place in town. You can even make requests to the chef.”

Queenie laughed. “I’m flattered. Hi, I’m Queenie.”

Credence looked immensely uncomfortable. He briefly accepted her hand, shaking it gently before his eyes wandered around the apartment. “And this is my sister, Teenie.”

All eyes turned to the ones perking up from under the table. Tina swatted her hair off her face and cleared her throat as she righted herself. “Tina, hi.”

“Don’t mind her, honey, she’s awkward without a job to take up her time,” Queenie charmed.

Tina’s expression was less than flattering but Credence did not see it. “Newt,” she said waved him over by the windows. _“Why_ did you bring him here?”

“I didn’t. Jacob did,” Newt said as he set his case down. “Although I cannot disagree with his judgment.”

“This is bad idea,” she worried.

“Why? I thought he was obliviated. He doesn’t remember you.”

“This is over complicating things, Newt,” she pleaded quietly. “If someone from MACUSA sees him here—I can’t be seen with any of them or I’ll never get my job back.”

“They won’t,” he calmed. “Jacob and I brought him here and for all they know we could live in a completely different flat. I’ll take him home myself.”

Tina glanced at Credence being ushered into a seat at the table but her worry did not dissipate. Newt’s voice softened. “He should be _here…_ instead of there, don’t you think?”

Tina’s dark eyes met his light ones. “You’re sure? He has magic?”

Newt’s lips pressed together. He nodded. “A great deal of it.”

Tina nodded as she inhaled deeply, resolving herself and then approaching to sit at the table.

*******

It took all day for it to emerge, and it was small, but Credence’s smile was bright. He mostly listened, marveling at the strange path the day had taken. He didn’t know these people. But they behaved like they had known him for weeks.

His smile lingered as he listened to Jacob’s stories. Some of the Salemers had fought in the war, but they either did not want to talk about it or only had dark things to say. Jacob was eager to talk, making the others laugh over how one of the soldiers had found and hidden a dog in the trenches for three months before their superior found out.

“And then ya know what? Well we’re in the middle of a war, right? So the pooch stays! That little fella kept morale up better than any a’us had for the last year. It was like we finally had something real worth fighting for. The whole place coulda gone up in smoke but that pup was makin’ it outta there.”

“Who got him?” Queenie asked eagerly.

“Ah, the general did,” Jacob finished. “Used his seniority to take the dog after the war ended.”

“You ever have a pet, Credence?” Queenie turned to him.

His smile vanished as he shyly shook his head. “I’m not allowed. Ma doesn’t like animals in the house.”

“Hmm…” she sighed as her eyes glazed over. “Doesn’t like the pigeons, huh?”

“Queenie,” Tina murmured suddenly.

“What about you, Newt?” Jacob salvaged. “You fight in the war?”

Newt blinked several times as he said, “Not exactly. But I was along the eastern front.” He stood up from the table suddenly. “It’s getting late. I ought to take Credence home now.”

Credence momentarily glanced at Newt’s plate on the counter, which he had never touched and then had been taken up as if he finished…but then his stomach plummeted. Nonetheless, he stood. His hands fidgeted by his hips as he said. “Thank you for having me.”

“Any time, honey,” Queenie said tiredly. “Don’t be a stranger here.”

“Just be careful of the steps. They creak and Ms. Estitito will use any reason to raise our rent.”

Newt closed the door silently behind them and swished his wand behind his leg to put a barrier around the landlady’s apartment. When Credence’s foot landed on a loud stair, they froze, and Newt gave him a shrug. “Perhaps she’s asleep.”

They made it out of the building and into the balmy night air. At least the steam vents were warm while the sky smelled of ice. There were passersby on the pavement but not nearly as many as during the day, letting Credence reside in his thoughts until he steeled himself to ask, “What did you mean? About the war?”

He peeked up only to realize Newt was much closer than he had realized, gazing dreamily back at him. “Pardon?”

Credence swallowed. “You said ‘not exactly,’ but you worked on the eastern front?”

Newt nodded deeply, “Oh, yes. I wasn’t involved with the fighting.”

“What were you involved with?” he could not help but ask.

Newt did not answer immediately. “What if…What if I told you I worked with…with dragons?”

Credence’s lashes batted heavily. “I’d…not think that was a military code name. This morning…you…with the papers.”

Newt nodded gently, encouraging him to say it, but when it didn’t come he smiled and looked down. “I am not good at indirect conversation.”

“Magic,” Credence whispered. Newt looked at him. “You. You have magic.”

Newt’s expression was gentle as he nodded again. “Yes. And I think you do too.”

*******

Jacob blew air between his lips as he relaxed back in his seat. “That went well, right? When are ya gonna tell him?”

“Not yet. He needs to trust us before we completely turn his life around,” Tina said. “But surely _he_ knows he has magic? That’s how children get enrolled into school: they show signs. Magic makes itself known.”

“School?” Jacob piped up curiously. “There’s a school of wizardry?”

But Queenie sighed raggedly, holding her face. “You said it. It’s gotta be hard coverin’ up an obscurus.”

Tina looked at her, and then stared, the color draining from her face the more she processed this. “What?”

Queenie’s lips moved into something like a smile but her expression was sad. “He’s an obscurial.”

“What’s that?” Jacob asked, reading the tension between them, but Tina’s own face fell into her hands. “Hold on, now. Don’t get dramatic without explaining what an obscurial-us thing is.”

“He’s not a child,” she exclaimed instead.

Queenie provided for Jacob, “They’re kinda a legend nowadays, but…kids used to suppress their magic to avoid no-majs from findin’ them. But something wonderful like that can’t be suppressed,” a smile flashed on her face. “So it…changes…into an obscurus.”

“It’s an uncontrollable dark force that no one can control,” Tina added. “It kills people, and eventually the child.”

Silence fell over the table as Jacob absorbed this and then ventured, “So what does this mean? And what about Newt?”

The sisters looked at each other, but neither had an answer.

*******

“I…” Credence voiced, but after a moment’s thought, he shook his head as steam particles danced across his cheeks. “I can’t.”

“It doesn’t quite work like that,” Newt uttered softly, a note of humour in his voice.

“I can’t,” he insisted again.

“I understand,” Newt soothed.

“No you don't.”

“You didn’t choose this. Sometimes we don’t choose, but nonetheless we are chosen.”

But Credence’s expression darkened as he shook his head. “That’s easy for you.” He haphazardly waved a hand in the air to disperse the fog and steam around them, to no avail.

“I’m not necessarily talking about magic,” Newt corrected. “Although…perhaps now is not the time.”

Credence realized Newt looked different. Tired. Exhausted. His shoulders slouched and he was leaning toward Credence more out of fatigue than interest. “What’s wrong?”

“May I see you again?” Newt asked rather suddenly.

Credence blinked. “Why?”

Newt laughed groggily, the steam making his curls stick to his forehead. “What a cruel question. Why shouldn’t I want to see you again?”

Credence’s cheeks warmed. “No one does.”

“Mm,” Newt hummed briefly. “I annoy people.”

Credence appeared confused. “I don’t think so.”

Newt smiled but it melted into a grimace as his fingertips felt his gums. “You are very kind, Credence.”

He frowned with perplexity. “Are you okay?”

“No,” he answered honestly. “I am parched and famished simultaneously. I need your answer. May I see you again tomorrow?”

“Why didn’t you eat anything?” he wondered incredulously as Newt stumbled forward. Credence’s hands on his chest caught him.

“Because it’s tasteless,” he thought he heard Newt say, but that could not be right.

“I thought her food was delicious, though.”

 _“Delicious,”_ Newt repeated, inches from Credence’s face. “It was.”

Credence’s frown deepened as he blinked through the growing fog. “You didn’t have any.”

“I can see it in you,” Newt said absently. “The fullness in your lips and shine in your eyes. I can _smell it.”_

He bowed as if in pain, his hand fully covering his mouth as he leaned into Credence.

“Smell?” he blurted, but his own sense of smell did not match what usually came with the steam from the sewers. He breathed in the aromas of water, warmth, sunlight, and something else that must have been Newt.

“I can smell your health,” Newt said quietly against his throat. When had he loosened the scarf? “Young people in their prime have various odours. Yours, Credence…is immensely palatable to me.”

“I…I don’t know what that means,” he said, but his voice sounded far away. By the time the handkerchief was out of his collar, he felt the tug of the fabric too late.

“I’m so sorry, Credence.”

“Why?” He sounded slow and lethargic.

“Because I lied.”

 _When?_ Credence wondered vacantly, but his head was already falling back to be caught by gentle fingers in his hair.

“Magical blood tastes addictive.”

*******

Credence awoke slowly, as if his mind was being pulled from slumber and constantly slipping back into it.

Someone was shaking him.

_Credence. Credence!_

He heard the slap more than he felt it, but after several moments he saw his mother looming over him. “What is the matter with you? Where did you go yesterday?”

He tried to swallow, but his voice was gone from his throat. Another answered in his place. “He was uptown.”

His head fell to the side to see Modesty in his doorway. She was already dressed. He had overslept.

Mary Lou looked down at him, her lips curving as if she smelled something sour. “In one of those illegal places. Drinking.”

Two of the Salemers kept flasks in their breast pockets, but Credence did not think that would dispel Mary Lou’s disdain for alcohol. Modesty’s clear voice cut through the grim silence. “More superstitious people live uptown. He gave out all his leaflets. That’s why he was late.”

Mary Lou’s countenance altered drastically. Credence’s breath hitched as her hand lowered toward his face, but stopped before she touched him. “This is why I have a curfew. When you’re out so late you’ll catch your death.”

“I’m sorry, ma,” he found his voice.

“Modesty, bring Credence some soup,” she ordered, and after a lingering look over him, she left. Compared to Queenie’s stew the night before, the soup Modesty brought was hot water, but it warmed his throat and helped him wake fully.

“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting beside him.

Credence gulped directly from the rim of the bowl and sighed raggedly. “Something’s happening to me.”

“I noticed,” she said bluntly, but not unkindly.

“I don’t know what to do,” he voiced, looking into the shallow bowl.

“Is this that puberty thing the doc told us about when he came for the kids with the flu?”

He peeked up at her. “No…I’m already past that.”

“Oh,” she exhaled. “Then is there anybody you can talk to? I mean, I can listen, but I don’t know much.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Thanks. Maybe…there is someone.”

“They’re not one of ma’s friends, are they?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Good,” she approved. “They’re all stupid.”

His mirth caught in his throat, but she smiled softly. “I like your new scarf.”

He froze. “My what?”

She reached under his pillow and pulled out the soft fabric. “Don’t forget it when you go outside.”

But Credence stuffed it back under his pillow. “No, it stays here.”

“You’ll get worse,” she warned, but he was already working on getting out of bed. She left so he could get dressed, and he approached the mirror on his armoire to check on his neck…but the holes were gone.

*******

Credence scratched behind his ear anxiously, his gaze wandering the wall of the alleyway—

“Credence.”

He startled at the velvety voice. The black and white coattails billowed behind the man approaching him. “It’s been a while. Have you found anything?”

Credence shook his head jerkily. “N-No. I…want to ask you something.”

Air moved through Graves’ nose, silent unease, but his voice gave nothing away. “What’s that?”

Credence hesitated. “I…something is happening to me.”

“What? Your mother again?”

“No. I…I think I was attacked the other day. I woke up with holes in my neck, and…felt…different. But today they’re gone.”

“That sounds like a vampire,” Graves said indifferently, “but their bites don’t heal overnight. Are you sure in what you saw?”

Credence’s head lowered. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Alright, alright,” Graves soothed. “Let me see.”

Suddenly his fingers were undoing Credence’s tie and button, folding the corners down. Credence could not see what he was doing but Graves’ fingers touched directly where the holes had been. Faint red outlines emerged from beneath the skin, answering his magic and revealing the recent injury.

“You’re right, and this was a vampire.” Releasing him, Graves’ magic cinched Credence’s closed back together. “The bite has been healed, which means a wizard is involved. Who’ve you spoken to in the last twenty-four hours?”

Instead of answering, Credence tried, “Couldn’t…couldn’t I have…healed it myself? Without meaning to?”

Graves was expressionless, neither confirming nor denying his inquiry. He took a breath and acquiesced. “Magic does behave unconsciously at times. Especially in children. Have you found the child?”

Credence swallowed thickly, shaking his head. “No. Not yet.”

“You’re pale, Credence. Go home and rest. There isn’t time to waste.”

He disapparated out of the alleyway, leaving Credence in the cold.

*******

“An obscurus?” Newt breathed. “You’re sure?”

Tina looked at Queenie, who nodded sadly. “Ya haven’t been in New York long but there have been strange things around town. An apartment building was destroyed the other day with no explanation, and sometimes deep grooves are torn through the roads.”

“I thought only children had been obscurials,” Tina agreed to Newt’s unspoken wonder. “And that they didn’t exist anymore.”

“I met one in Sudan three months ago,” Newt said. The sisters stared at him. “That’s how a vampire found me. I was lingering so I could help her, but…she died, and so did I, in a way.”

“You’ve only been a vampire for three months?” Tina said incredulously.

“I told you it was a recent development in my life,” Newt reminded.

“What about Credence?” Queenie returned the topic. “If MACUSA doesn’t find him first…he’ll die anyway. What can we do?”

Newt did not answer readily. His fingertips were sliding over his lips as he was deep in thought. “His power must be so strong he’s somehow managed to survive. There isn’t a documented case of an obscurial living past the age of ten.”

“If he’s had it for so long…how would you even go about separating an obscurus from its host?”

“I’ve seen it done,” Newt revealed. “But you’re not going to like it.”

Tina’s spine straightened. “The Sudanese girl? You said she died.”

“She was beyond saving. But I managed to separate it from her as I tried to save her.”

“Then _why_ do you think I wouldn’t like it?” Tina interrogated. “Because of the risk?”

“No,” Newt said with a strange note of embarrassment. His hands rotated his wand restlessly. “Because you may see me in a dimmer light than you already do.”

“Newt,” she leaned forward, “if it will save him, do it.”

He held her gaze for a while, and then nodded. “That’s not very MACUSA of you,” he teased.

“Yeah well, stupid laws are worth breaking,” she snapped before they collectively jumped at the door bursting open. Credence, breathless and ghostly pale, stood before them.

“What’s happening to me?” he exhaled, and then collapsed.

Newt smoothly moved his wand, and Credence gently floated instead of landing on the floor. Rising from his seat, he came to hold Credence in his arms and weightlessly carried him to the couch.

“You fed from him again,” Tina said behind him. “Why did you take so much?”

“I don’t think I did,” Newt replied as he lowered Credence’s head like it was made of glass. He unbuttoned Credence’s layers and splayed a hand over his chest, as if he could feel the beating of his heart through the contact.

“Is it the obscurus?” Queenie wondered.

“No…you would know if that were the case,” Newt said as he gently lifted Credence’s eyelids. “Queenie, can you make a thinner version of that stew? Something easy for him to get down.”

“Sure!” she chimed, and set upon the task.

“Tina, I need you to go get Jacob.”

“Why?”

“Because I gave Credence my antidote last night. I need to know if he’s having a bad reaction or if Jacob is ill as well.”

She disapparated without another word, and not minutes later, reappeared with a bewildered Jacob. He wore his blue overalls but seemed happy at where they landed. “Hey everybody, uh—woah. What’s wrong with him?”

“Jacob,” Newt approached him eagerly. “Are you experiencing any symptoms?”

“Symptoms? Like that?” he gestured to the unconscious Credence. “No, I feel great.”

They watched as Newt opened his case and scooped Credence up before sitting right over the opening…and was sucked inside. Tina and Jacob exchanged looks and quickly followed him inside, where he was already setting Credence down on a stone platform. They had to momentarily stare up in a daze at the brilliant golden bird swishing its long tails over them. A plush futon unrolled beneath Credence as Newt cast his shoes, jacket, and waistcoat off. A vial of clear, viscous fluid as well as a syringe were beside him. He pulled the sterile cap off the needle and began pulling the plunger to measure fluid into the syringe.

“What is that?” Tina’s concern was tangible.

“My venom,” Newt replied.

“How is that going to help him?” she exclaimed.

“I told you my venom prepares the individual to be my donor. It thins the blood, making it easier for me to drink, but it also catalyzes blood production, so I needn’t worry over how much I take. I thought giving him the antidote was a kindness to eliminate the other side effects, but instead it’s killing him.”

Another movement of his wand had Credence’s shirt cuffs unbuttoned to push up past his elbow. At the sight of his scars, thick and dark from multiple recoveries, Jacob blew air through his lips.

Newt pierced through the vein in his elbow as easily as if he could see it through the skin, and slowly pushed the plunger down—

“No, please, stay there. Frank doesn't take kindly to strangers.”

“Frank,” Tina huffed a laugh as she still stared at the thunderbird cawing down at them.

“Oh, this guy,” Jacob chimed at the niffler, who scurried over to sniff them.

“Look around, if you like,” Newt offered as he extracted the needle from Credence’s arm. “My creatures aren’t dangerous.”

They did just that, as they were left to wander until Credence woke up. Newt stayed by him, covering him in a comforter and patting the sweat from his face and neck. Frank landed beside him, nuzzling and pestering him before a flurry of black swooped around them. The bats moved like one entity, moving from one corner to another before they settled high in the lofty depths of the case. Eventually Newt had to leave Credence to attend his creatures, but over the course of the day, Credence’s breath normalized and by dinnertime, his eyes opened.

“Welcome back,” Jacob smiled from where he sat on the stairs of the platform. Credence’s eyes slid off of Newt to see him and looked around him.

“Where am I?”

“The Goldsteins’ apartment,” Newt said beside him. “But currently in my suitcase.”

“In…your case?”

“I enchanted it to be deeper. Inhabitable,” Newt smiled softly the same moment Frank came into Credence’s view.

“Oh,” he said vacantly, watching the massive bird moving Newt’s hair around.

“Dinner’s ready whenever you are,” Queenie chimed from his other side. “No rush.”

Credence blinked. “Dinner?”

The others appeared puzzled. “Yeah,” Queenie said, and then her features cleared. “You don’t usually eat dinner…”

“You will tonight,” Tina proclaimed softly from the caravan door. “Don’t get up too fast, take your time.”

Jacob followed the sisters out of the case. Credence blinked for clarity, but between the golden and silver moonlight illuminating the case, he had no concept of time. “What time is it?”

“Dinner time, I suppose,” Newt said vacantly, stroking Frank’s beak.

Credence watched him until he rolled onto his side, the easier to sit up. “There’s no hurry,” Newt insisted.

“I need to go home.”

“I will obliviate your mother,” Newt declared softly. “So you needn’t worry.”

Credence settled where he was. “Obliviate?”

“The erasure of memory,” Newt provided. “She’ll never know you were gone. Just as how you don’t remember Tina.”

Credence was visibly confused. Newt offered a consoling smile. “Yesterday was not your first time meeting her, but that does not matter now. May I show you something?”

Newt stood and held out his hands. Credence hesitated, but at the sight of his shirt cuffs already undone he placed his hands shakily in Newt’s—

A sensation flew through him, darting from his hands to his heart, and then his groin and toes. He collapsed back down, catching himself on his elbow as Newt knelt beside him. “I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “This is my fault.”

“Mr. Scamander—”

“Call me Newt.”

Suddenly everything around Credence was too much, like he could feel every thread of his raiment. “Do…Do vampires exist? Like dragons?”

When Newt hesitated to answer, he looked up. Newt blinked as his head bobbed in a nod. “Yes,” he acquiesced. “And…I am one.”

Credence’s voice trembled. “Then what’s happening?”

“May we go for a walk? Just in here. You’ll feel better after some movement while I explain.”

Credence shook his head. “I d-don’t want to.”

Something like bashfulness and mischief curved Newt’s lips. “It’s just us here. I am a man too, after all. You needn’t feel embarrassed.”

What color was missing from Credence’s cheeks returned tenfold. He found his feet on his own, but the elevation made his head swim so Newt took his arm to hold within his elbow. Credence refused to look down even though he felt himself straining in his trousers.

“I didn’t mean to, the first time,” Newt began as he led Credence over the platform where it sloped into moonlit desert sands. “And I did not give you my antidote that first night, which I’m sure created quite a shock.”

“Antidote?”

“My venom creates certain symptoms, as you’ve experienced, but I have developed an antivenin to counter them.”

“Can I have it now?” Credence heard the discomfort in his voice. Newt kept their pace slow for him but every step moved the fabric around his groin.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “My venom helps your body create blood cells at an expedited pace. To give you the antidote now would be the same as killing you. But I’m curious… Why did you come to us? Not to mean that you aren’t welcome—you are, of course.”

Newt sighed impatiently at himself. Credence looked up at him, and a new, strange feeling of ease encompassed him. “You…bit me?” he ventured.

Newt’s face turned back to him but his eyes were elsewhere. He nodded.

“Because…you…drink my blood?”

Newt inhaled, paused, and nodded again.

Credence gave this some thought and said, “Are you going to do it again?”

“No,” Newt shook his head. “Once you’ve recovered, I’ll give you the antidote. I won’t impose again.”

Credence fell silent. “Will you obliviate me?”

Newt stopped and turned toward him. “No. I disagree with American magical law. It is backwards and impractical.”

“I don’t know anything about it.”

Newt picked their pace back up. “Oh, it’s ludicrous. Magical people can’t even have a conversation with muggles—Tina and Queenie are already breaking the law by being friends with Jacob. Tina lost her job because she attacked your foster mother, and I am an unregistered vampire with illegal luggage, let alone my creatures. Well now that I’ve listed it, I realize we may not the be the best company for you.”

A soft, delicate sound came from Credence: a laugh. Newt looked at him to meet his smile. It dwindled as he asked, “If you’re not going to obliviate me…then what’s going to happen?”

Newt led him past a hill bathed in moonlight, swarming with long-necked creatures with massive eyes. “You don’t think we’re abandoning you, surely?” he teased carefully. “On the contrary…this is what I’d like to show you.”

Credence looked at the white tent flaps before them, moving with the air currents of snow on the other side. Newt brought them through to see a bubble of sorts hovering over the snow…and a sandy black skeletal thing inside of it. Credence jerked back from it but Newt did not hold him; if he wanted to leave he could, but Credence’s frightened eyes looked between Newt and the obscurus. “H-How do you know?”

“Magical blood is…different,” Newt said indirectly. He did not want to overwhelm Credence by telling him Queenie was a legilimens. “I can taste how much power you have, but given your…situation, it is not uncommon for magical children to suppress their potential. This creates an obscurus. I met someone much like you three months ago. This is hers.”

Credence felt sick. “She’s—you…she’s there?”

“No!” Newt realized. “No, she died. An obscurus is a parasite that cannot live without its host. I separated it from her but I couldn’t save her. The obscurus cannot survive outside of there.”

Credence relaxed but he still felt ill. “A parasite…”

“Obscurials have never lived past the age of ten,” Newt continued. “You’ve been incredibly strong, but I’d say it’s time to stop burning the candle at both ends.”

Credence watched the swirls of soot and jagged bone light up with a dull glow like lightening before he said, “I’ve never used magic without mine.”

“That can’t be true,” Newt said on a lighter note. He turned them so they could stroll out of the tent. “Have you never noticed inexplicable things around you? Things fall. Things disappear and then reappear days later. Your socks change colour.”

“I…” Credence realized as memories deeply buried resurfaced. “I tried not to…ma didn’t like things without reason.”

Newt’s thumb caressing his hand made Credence realize Newt’s hand was on top of his, soothing and faintly warm. “She sounds like a cruel person.”

“She thinks magic is evil.”

“Magic is innocent,” Newt replied. “People are evil.”

Credence’s lashes kissed his cheeks as he looked up at him. Newt elaborated, “The day I arrived in New York, my case accidentally switched with Jacob’s, and my creatures were almost released upon the city. But this wouldn’t have been disastrous for New York; this is an island where millions of the most dangerous creatures are concentrated. It would mean certain peril for mine. Nothing in here is dangerous, merely misunderstood. Perhaps you too are simply in the wrong place.”

Credence appeared dubious. “Where would I go? I’m dependent on the orphanage.”

“As I said, surely you don’t think we’re abandoning you,” Newt smiled, and guided them to the caravan.

“But then what about the…obscurus, you said?”

“Separating it from you may come later,” Newt said. “As long as it is unprovoked, I don’t think it will give us any trouble for the time being.”

Newt helped him up the ladder, where above wafted the aromas of Queenie’s food. Credence’s stomach growled loudly, inciting mirth from the others as they assembled his meal for him, complete with freshly baked bread and butter. Afterward, Credence was able to retain his balance much better, but he was now comfortable enough to ask Newt, “Why can’t I stay here?”

“Because of the Salemers' awareness of magic, there may be someone from MACUSA keeping watch over them,” he said as they walked through New York, “and a missing one will raise suspicions for Tina. Not to worry, we are expected.”

“Expected?” he worried, but they were on the street of the orphanage now. Newt’s steps slowed as he peered around the street, and then an orb of light flew from his wand to land on the orphanage door. It stuck like glue and then disappeared as the entire building rippled with light. The magic vanished to the naked eye as Newt swept right inside. Credence peeked around them, but all of the children were already in bed because of the curfew…apart from Chastity, who was asleep at the table.

His breath halted in his throat at the sight of Mary Lou asleep on the stairs, but he gaped at Newt using his magic to move her to the table as well. Slumping over the table like Chastity, she slept as soundly as everyone else. A strange sense of relief washed over Credence as he followed Newt up the stairs—

“Hiya, Mr. Scamander.”

His eyes widened on Modesty greeting them at the top of the stairs, and then he frowned at Newt responding, “Hello! How are you?”

He touched her cheek in passing, earning a smile from her. “I’m good.”

“You know each other?” Credence blurted.

“He’s the one who’s been bringin’ you home,” she said like it was obvious. “Are ya feelin’ better?”

“Yeah…” he answered as they followed Newt into his room without needing directions. “This morning…did you mean I should go to Newt?”

Modesty looked at him with a frown. “Yeah? Definitely not that creepy guy you visit.”

Credence felt like he’d just been slapped in the mouth. “He’s not creepy.”

“He’s creepy,” she countered, allowing no argument. “Mr. Scamander’s nice.”

 _He’s a vampire,_ Credence thought ironically, but he could not disagree.

“Modesty, I have something for you,” Newt called, but when they caught up with him, Newt was feeling his coat as if he had lost something. “At least…I thought…I must have left it…”

He reached forward and pulled a something golden from her hair. A butterfly pin—but as she reached for it he pushed the wings together and the light glinted off the metal to conceal its transformation into a gold coin. She smiled as she rolled it in her hand, looking over each side.

“You mustn’t lose this, and you cannot show it to anybody else. It is an important coin,” he narrated. “If you ever need help, hold this in your hand and say, _I need a night taxi._ ”

She gave him a patient albeit dubious look. “That’s silly.”

His brows lifted. “You don’t believe me?”

“A coin isn’t a telephone,” she retorted.

“Well ears aren’t piggy banks, dear, but I’m afraid you have a condition,” he sassed as he gently tugged on her hair and ears until silver and bronze coins rained upon the floor. She laughed so much Credence’s lips pulled into a smile. “So, if you ever find yourself in need of help, what will you do?”

Modesty rolled her eyes. “I’ll call for a night taxi. What’s the difference between a night taxi and a regular taxi?”

“That depends. Can you keep a secret?” he asked.

When she nodded, his eyes narrowed, his lips pursing to the side until she insisted, “I can!”

“Do you believe in magic?” he asked in a whisper.

She shrugged, “Ma does. I’m not sure, though.”

“What if I told you it is real, but not how your mother says it is?”

Modesty nibbled her lip. “She says witches carry sticks that hurt people. That they create monsters.”

“I believe it is cruel to call something a monster simply because you don’t understand it,” Newt said. “What is the difference between a doctor and a wizard?”

Her lips parted. “What is the difference?”

“One is easier to come by than the other,” he winked and tapped the coin in her hands. “But you understand that only you can know about this, don’t you?”

She held his gaze steadily as she ruminated on that. “This means wizards are real?”

Newt’s features relaxed as he simply looked up toward the ceiling. She and Credence did the same, where the ceiling was fading with transparency, to reveal not only the city’s smoke stacks around them, but the stars above, which the city normally concealed. Modesty gasped and looked to Credence, whose knowledge of magic kept him composed. His calm turned her back to Newt, who smiled…sadly.

“Am I evil?” he whispered.

She swallowed…and shook her head.

“Am I a monster?” he asked, but the words moved Credence.

Modesty’s head turned again. “No. I don’t think so.”

Newt rose up enough to kiss her cheek. From both hers and Credence’s open expressions, such things didn’t happen often in the Barebone household. “I’m going to say goodnight to Credence and take my leave.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Scamander.”

“Oh, call me Newt.”

“G’night, Newt,” she said by the door and left, holding the coin close.

Newt stood fully and approached Credence, where he said, “May I touch you?”

Credence’s eyes felt like they were falling out of his skull. _“What?”_

“May I examine you? It is my fault, after all.”

Credence hoped his heartbeat was not as loud as he felt it pounding in his chest. “Okay.”

Newt pulled his wand as if from nowhere and the lamp on Credence’s bedside table bloomed with light. Pocketing it once more, Newt’s hands framed his face, turning it this way and that so the light touched his eyes. “Your eyes look better,” he said as one of his hands slid down to Credence’s chest. Newt’s own eyes closed as he listened. 

“Perhaps…it’s not time for the antivenin yet.”

“What other symptoms are there?” Credence blurted, opening Newt’s eyes. “What did…the others feel after you bit them?”

Newt removed his hands to scratch his head. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Once I developed my antitoxin, I fed once only and moved on. You are a special case.”

 _Special._ His heart did a clumsy flip in his chest. “Where would you have gone if you hadn’t found me?”

“Arizona,” Newt answered easily, which made Credence’s heart fall. “Frank—my thunderbird—his natural home is the deserts of Arizona. I found him in Egypt but I’m bringing him home, though I cannot claim to be entirely happy about it.”

“Why?” Credence wondered.

Newt scratched his brows, moving his fringe aside. “I don’t fare well in sunny places anymore. A disadvantage of becoming a vampire.”

“Become…so you weren’t always one,” he deduced.

“There is a lot to talk about,” Newt confirmed, but not impatiently. “Your mother will be…tired tomorrow, which will give you the day to rest.”

“Can’t I come see you and the others?” he exclaimed.

Newt smiled. “I won’t stop you. I’d be happy to see you tomorrow.”

He picked up his case to leave but paused at feeling Credence holding his arm. “Yes?” he stood up straight, leaning in close in that way he had.

Maybe it was two days spent with him, or maybe it was Newt’s venom in his veins—Credence could not help feeling a slight thrill at the latter—but the words fell out of his mouth with ease: “You kissed her. Is that…how wizards say goodbye?”

Newt blinked as he considered this. “In certain countries, I suppose. My mother is French, so it is a familiarity I am used to but it can be difficult gauging who is comfortable with it… Credence.”

Newt’s gaze on him was palpable and he felt heat in his face as if the lamp was near his skin. The epiphany struck him like a pale of water to his face as he observed the auburn glow in Newt’s hair and the freckles on his skin: Newt Scamander was a handsome man. And a wizard. And a vampire.

Credence moved as if he was magnetically pulled, his eyelids heavy over his irises. He kissed Newt’s cheekbone tentatively, but also felt a tickling sensation on his own. Newt moved around him, switching sides to kiss his other cheek. Credence’s lips remained parted as he returned in front of him…

He could not say how long until he felt it, but the softness of Newt’s lips was like a shock to his system. The gentility, the…Credence could not name it. He could only feel the softness linger on his mouth…and then lift away too soon, sparking something deep within him. But when he opened his eyes, the room was empty.

*******

Credence awoke the next day with the feeling of his thoughts having only been paused. His body felt refreshed but his mind pushed him up in bed and he dressed quickly.

“Good morning,” Tina laughed upon his entering their apartment. “You’re a little too good at getting past the land lady.”

“Newt’s not here, but I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Queenie greeted. Credence’s mouth opened to say something but nothing came out and Queenie threw a smile at him as she bobbed on her feet.

“Did he come back last night?” Tina wondered as she looked around the apartment for his case.

This gave Queenie pause. “You know, I’m not sure.”

Tina inhaled suddenly as an idea struck her. “Credence, did Newt—uh…I have no idea how to be casual about this. Did Newt, um…drink yesterday?”

Credence flushed darker than Queenie’s pink coats but Tina was more visibly flustered. “I know! I know, but…well, did he?”

Credence’s throat was as vacant as ever. He shook his head before he managed, “At least…I don’t think so. He said he wouldn’t.”

Tina’s features opened into something like fear. She looked at her sister, who was a milder version of worry. “I thought you was supposed to be his partner?”

“What?” Credence asked but Tina spoke at the same time.

“He said he was givin’im the anti-venom stuff and then—well, sure, he lied about obliviating him, but that’s out of the bag now.”

“So Credence isn’t his donor?” Queenie puzzled. Then it was her turn for an epiphany. “Oh, that was one a’those things he didn’t say aloud, wasn’t it?”

One of Tina’s hands landed on her waist. “Are you saying you knew Newt was going to find Credence to be his donor?”

“I knew he wasn’t goin’ t’obliviate Jacob. I figured if I could have Jacob, he could have Credence,” she said unabashed.

“Wait, what?” Credence interrupted. “Thoughts?”

“She’s a legilimens,” Tina explained impatiently. “She can read thoughts.”

“A bit more than that,” Queenie offered. “I don’t mean to do it.”

Credence’s jaw dropped but he picked it back up. “Uh. Okay. Then…Newt needs a blood donor?”

Tina sighed as she rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. He does. I guess after yesterday, I figured it’d be a done deal. Oh…this is bad. If he bit someone else…even so, he shoulda come back after taking you home.”

“That’s not my home,” Credence said before he meant to. “Where is he, then?”

The sisters looked at one another. “Where would a guy with a case of animals go?” Queenie wondered.

Tina shrugged. “Central Park?”

*******

Newt wasn’t in Central Park.

He was not in any of the parks, and after they had recruited Jacob once more from the factory at the end of his shift, they were further lost as to his whereabouts. “No, no, haven’t seen him,” Jacob said as they strode over the pavement. “Have ya been all over the city? Maybe he’s back at your place.”

The sun was setting as they climbed the stairs of the Goldstein apartment, but upon bursting through the door, the place was just as they’d left it. Tina looked under the couch and went to see if a case was under their beds while Queenie lingered by the door. “He wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye…”

“I don’t like this,” Tina announced in a huff as she stood upright.

“Ya don’t like it because it’s not like him,” Jacob seconded. “I may’ve only known the guy a few days but after all he’s done for Credence? Nah, he’s around here somewhere.”

“Which means something happened,” Tina worried. “A vampire attack would have been announced, but nothing! Where is he?”

“Arizona…” Credence murmured. The others looked at him. “He said he was in America for Arizona. That the…thunderbird needed to get there.”

Both Tina and Queenie grimaced. “A vampire in Arizona?” the latter wondered while the former agreed, “Newt’s in no hurry to get there. No, he’s _here,_ in the city.”

“Look, we’re not doin’ anything by standin’ here being anxious,” Jacob rallied. “Let’s give it one more night. If nothing turns up by morning, we’ll scour the city one more time and try places like Brooklyn. We can ask travel ports if they met him, so we can scratch Arizona off the list. But for now, let’s call it a night, huh?”

Credence didn’t like that at all, and clearly neither did the Goldsteins, but now that they had stopped moving he felt fatigue in his legs and his feet wanted his weight off of them. Queenie and Jacob made them dinner, the latter baking pastries in the shape of medallions the size of the orange slices on top of them. It was one of the most delicious meals he had ever had, and Jacob insisted he take the rest of the pastries back with him.

“For the other kids, unless you wanna hoard ‘em,” he laughed with a soft nudge on Credence’s arm. “See ya tomorrow.”

Credence looked up from the door, meeting the others’ gazes. _Tomorrow._

“You know where we’ll be,” Tina confirmed and then rolled her eyes. “Unlike some people.”

The journey back to the orphanage seemed to be both faster and somehow slower than usual. The tin box of pastries was warm over his hands, the goods retaining heat from the oven. The orphanage was as dark and silent as ever, but tonight his mother was not waiting for him.

 _I’d be happy to see you tomorrow,_ Newt had said.

Credence stopped in the middle of the floor. _I’d be happy to see you tomorrow._ Newt had apologized every time he bit Credence. Why would he say something like that without meaning it? Unease settled under his sternum, painful and sore—

“Credence.”

He froze.

“Credence. What is that?”

He had not realized how relaxed he had become until his muscles went rigid, his shoulders rising toward his ears. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Floorboards creaked. “I asked you what you're holding.”

Down one stair. Then two. Then more.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing. Give it to me.”

His fingertips pressed white over the box. Something sharp moved inside him—

“I asked him to get it.”

They both looked up at Modesty at the top of the stairs. “My dolls and shoes are coming apart. I found a bill on the ground and asked him to get me sewing things.”

Mary Lou was silent. Like waiting for a blizzard to arrive. “You’ve never sewn, Modesty.”

“I want to try. Credence does, but I don’t want to keep asking him to repair my things.”

Mary Lou turned back toward him, but his head jerked down as his jaw clenched, vehemently keeping his anger and more leashed within.

“You found a bill,” she said after a while. “I’ve told you all to bring such things to m-me…” As if losing her balance, she swayed on the stair and caught herself on the banister. “I haven’t been feeling well. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. The box will stay in my room.”

One of the balustrades snapped.

Mary Lou startled only slightly. She slowly stepped down to the corresponding stair to inspect the splintered post, and then she looked up at Credence. “What is this?”

His dark gaze leveled with hers—the stair above her split in half. A soft yelp escaped her but her voice was high with fear and delusional self-righteousness. “You…you’re just like _her._ I should’ve known. You’re just as unnatural as that evil woman you came out of—”

A trail of fury led up to her and moved up the banister; splinters sparked as magic traveled up it like a current.

And then the front door burst open.

“Hello, hello. Good evening. Someone called for a taxi?”

Mary Lou stared at the man in an old but well kept tuxedo, brown leather driving gloves, and an Irish cap. He in turn looked around the room. “Strange to be called to a no-maj’s place but…what are you staring at?”

A flick of a wand collapsed Mary Lou on the stairs in sleep. He pointed the wand to Credence—“Wait! I-I called you.”

“No ya didn’t. A…” he pulled his wallet out to read something Credence could not see. “Modesty Barebone hailed a night cab at ten thirty-seven. Ah! There’s the gal.”

Credence looked up at the surprised Modesty, who revealed the gold coin in her hand. “But I didn’t say it,” she murmured.

“Needn’t say it,” the cabbie chimed. “Ya got the coin. I’ve got the wheels, now where to? If that’s a galleon, doll, I'll take you through Jersey and back.”

“Can you…find someone?” Credence realized.

“Unless they’re dead, incarcerated, or outside the continent, yes.”

“Can you find Newt Scamander?”

The taxi driver was writing in his wallet. His pen was his wand. “Yeah, sure. Strange name. I mean, no stranger than most. Is he one of those hippogriff people from England?”

“I don’t know what that means,” Credence said impatiently. “Can you find him?”

The taxi driver made a show of appearing exasperated. “Get in the damn car if you’re so needy about it. Don’t forget my payment.”

Credence ran up the stairs for the galleon, paused, and left a clumsy kiss on Modesty’s cheek, leaving her in a daze. Downstairs he all but threw himself in the backseat of a strangely indigo taxi. The driver set his wallet on the dash and began tuning his radio instead of driving anywhere. All that came across the radio waves was wonky static. “What are you waiting for?”

“Newt Scamander, you said?”

“Yes?”

“You sure you ain’t got him already? ‘Cause my coordinates are behaving like we’ve already arrived.”

Credence’s brow furrowed…and then he felt like his heart stopped. He kicked the door open once more and only stopped when the driver called him. “Oy, might as well have this back. Next time no change back.”

He flicked the galleon in the air and by some stroke of luck, Credence caught it before he ran through the house. Modesty peeked out of her door as he navigated up the stairs to his room. Of all the days for the knob to stick—

Credence stumbled into his room and was not sure which struck him first: the bright blue coat on the floor, or the person lying on his bed with his back to him. Credence’s chest heaved like he just remembered to breathe. His entire body reacted like his blood cells were magnetically charged to the man lying on his bed.

“Newt?”

He did not move. His legs were oddly lying on the mattress, as if he had not so much volunteered to lie there but had fallen. Credence came to the bed and hesitated, but then touched his shoulder. “Newt?”

He was pale and his lips were chapped. It took another shaking from Credence before his eyes opened. They moved lethargically in their sockets before Newt remembered. “Credence?”

He rolled Newt all the way onto his back so he could face him. A tired smile tried to curve on Newt’s lips. “It…was sunny today.”

“What’s wrong? What can I do?”

Newt blinked just as slowly. “What a dangerous question.”

“Newt, please,” he panicked. “Tell me what to do.”

Newt swallowed but the very sound was dry. “I…’m malnourished. I need blood. I’m sorry, Credence. I didn’t mean to come here.”

Frowning, Credence voiced, “You mean you would have drunk from somebody else. I don’t want that.”

Another smile flashed on Newt’s face as he dreamily reached for Credence’s face. “My venom is inside you. And your blood is magic. I’m afraid…I’ve become quite attached to you.”

Credence caught his wrist and held it to him. “Fine. Tell me what to do.”

Newt’s smile faded. “Do you want this?” Credence gave it some brief thought, and nodded. “You don’t know what you’re promising.”

“I don’t know a lot of things,” he admitted. “But it’s better than what I know here. You said you wouldn’t abandon me… This way you won’t.”

A laugh of all things escaped Newt. “You’re so brave. I admire that the most about you.”

Credence felt anything but. “I’m not brave.”

“Yes you are,” Newt refuted. “You are…remarkably good at confrontation…”

His words were growing weaker and weaker. Credence undid his tie and all of the buttons barring his throat. He felt Newt’s eyes on his movements. His breath was ragged when he finished. “Go ahead.”

Newt’s irises lifted heavily from his throat to his eyes. “You’re sure?”

Credence nodded. “Yes.”

Newt began to push himself up, but Credence met him halfway. Newt’s hand weakly touched his chest, moving over his collarbone to his throat while his eyes watched Credence for a notion of refusal. Credence realized through Newt’s parted lips he could see two white points.

“You’re sure?” Newt asked again, whispered.

Credence met his gaze, nodding.

“Credence…” His name rushed out of Newt’s mouth, but before he could absorb all of the feeling dripping from it, he felt himself pulled as if his body wanted to meet Newt, wanted to give him this. The initial feeling of Newt’s teeth piercing his skin was oddly painless, or rather, Credence’s head was too full of feeling Newt around him. Newt was not strong enough this time to evoke mist and mindlessness—but the plunging of bone through the artery and muscle underneath frayed his nerves.

Gasping, Credence gripped any part of Newt he could…and slowly the pain ebbed, as if he could feel Newt’s venom sinking, dripping through him. _“Ahm!”_ he involuntarily moaned when Newt swallowed and sucked, hard. His blood surged to his mouth, numbing his toes and tingling everything on the way to Newt’s lips. A more familiar sensation of dreaming began to engulf Credence. Through the fog he felt Newt’s arms slide around his waist, pulling him over Newt's body as if he weighed much less than he felt. Newt rolled so Credence was between him and the wall, comfortably lying on the bed as he languidly drank at his own pace.

Credence's eyes had heavily shut. The last thing he felt was Newt’s tongue dragging over the holes in his throat, and his lips nuzzling, tickling his skin…

*******

Credence’s eyes opened to rain pattering on his window. A softness on his cheek turned his head to Newt’s hair tickling his temple. Credence blinked, realizing Newt’s arm was over his torso, the blanket had been thrown over them, and Newt’s eyes were open. “Good morning,” he said quietly.

Credence could not say what bid him to do it; it was as natural as seeking water, and Newt was the source. Credence clumsily pushed himself onto his side and found Newt’s lips with his own. The kiss was quick and closed, Credence slumping back onto his shoulder blades with his neck aching…

Newt’s hands slid around him to frame his face, his fingertips warm on his nape as his lips parted before meeting Credence’s. He pushed Credence’s lips apart, the sound of their kiss loud in his ears as Newt began another, creating a slow rhythm between them. As Credence felt his mouth coaxed wider he trembled, feeling vulnerable and exhilarated together. He met Newt’s kiss, trying to roll onto his side as he shuttered against the throbbing between his legs.

“The antivenin will ease that,” Newt began to say against his mouth but Credence’s nose moved against his as he refused.

“I don’t want it.”

Newt’s eyes widened but after a moment the corners wrinkled with a shy smile. “May I do something for you?”

Credence did not understand until Newt’s leg moved between his, his thigh kneading between his legs. Credence’s cheeks were dusted with pink as Newt kissed him anew, earning broken mewls from him as Newt moved atop him. Credence’s neck fell open as Newt kissed it, leaving a trail over his clavicles as he undid the rest of Credence’s shirt.

“Wait!” he realized. Newt stopped instantly. “Th-The door. It doesn’t lock. And the sounds…”

Newt withdrew his wand from his belt and the door transformed into a thick, lavish slab of wood more apt for a mansion than his room. A bubble engorged from his wand to stick to the walls. “No one will hear us.”

A wicked smile flashed on Newt's face. Credence blushed from his hair to his throat as his hands covered his laughter. His mirth dwindled as he felt Newt leaving kisses on his ribs, his belly. When he looked down, his trousers were already undone, Newt’s lips on his pelvic bone. When Credence’s breath shuddered with apprehension, he looked up and smiled consolingly. “I won’t bite down here…today.”

A streak of panic was visible on Credence’s face but Newt laughed breathily. Credence covered his eyes, “You’re making fun of me.”

“Only a little,” Newt purred, his chin resting on Credence’s stomach. “May I kiss you, first?”

Credence thought about it and nodded, moving his hands out of the way. “You don’t need to ask.”

“I like to,” he sighed. Newt’s pelvis rested over Credence’s, gently rubbing with the rocking of their kiss, erotic and sensual but not enough.

“Newt,” he whined, feeling like he would come in his pants like this. his fingers scratched over Newt's waistcoat, one of his hands coming between them to pull the buttons of it undone. Newt's tongue caressed the seam of his lips as he sucked in his lower lip, dazing him and leaving his mouth wet while he disappeared below. Credence only felt a yank on his undergarments before he was inside the molten heat of Newt’s mouth. His breath was loud in his ears alongside the wet sounds of Newt lavishing his erection, pushing his thighs apart for better access. His hands gripping Credence’s thighs made him squirm deliciously. He wanted all of his clothing off so he could feel Newt’s body along his…

Newt's tongue dragged up his cock when Credence's nails unconsciously found Newt's shoulder, dragging up the column of his neck to find his jaw. Newt softly kissed the head as his own nails pressed into the tender flesh under Credence's belly button. His pelvis began to tremble.

“Ah!” he exclaimed as one of Newt’s hands held his waist and the other reached up his chest. The pads of his fingers raked over the sensitive flesh as his mouth sucked every wave of his orgasm from him.

Afterward, Newt held Credence in his arms despite his own erection pressing against him. Newt’s freckles were vibrant, his skin warm, and Credence could not help but look forward to feeding him again. “What about you?” he asked.

“I’m more than content,” Newt reassured. “Besides, we’ll have a long journey to share each other.”

Credence looked up at him. “Arizona?”

“I’ll need someone to make sure I don’t faint from the sunlight,” Newt confirmed. “And the irony is that warmer climes are easier for someone to turn into a vampire.”

Credence stared at him. “Do you mean…?”

“It’s up to you,” Newt said quietly. “Obscuruses feed on wizards and witches. Not vampires. The girl in Sudan…I tried but…the obscurus had been with her too long. You’re stronger.”

A faint smile warmed Credence’s mouth as Newt left lazy kisses along the edges of his lips. “But I do enjoy your taste…”

A thrill went through Credence. He lifted a hand to push Newt's lips apart. His eyeteeth were sharp and slowly slid out of his gums when Credence touched them. “I could taste you…?”

Newt smiled, and it was far closer to cute than ferocious. “It’s only fair, after I’ve left so many holes in you.”

*******

Tina paced the floor while Queenie drank her tea while sitting on the table with Jacob. The rain had extended into the afternoon. “You sure they’re in there? What’s taking them so long?” she asked with a glance at Chastity and Mary Lou still sleeping on the table's end.

Queenie giggled. Soundproofing a room did not silence thoughts. “Give ‘em time. Credence will get hungry eventually.”

Tina frowned at her. “Why are you laughing?”

She shrugged, not having the heart to tell her more than Newt had arrived to New York. Something wicked was coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Then Newt and his vampire lived happily ever after~ And Grindel-Graves was left waiting in the alleyway forever.
> 
> Some credit where credit is due, [Axilarts' golden vampire Newt](https://axilarts.tumblr.com/post/166167520256/to-that-anon-who-said-i-now-i-need-to-draw-vampire) sparked the inspiration for this ficlet <3 send them some love~
> 
> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/Pondermoniums) and [my Tumblr](http://pondermoniums.tumblr.com/)


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